Don't
you see, the description which you have there has a singular
resemblance to an honest man?"

"Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great robbers
always resemble honest folks. Fellows who have rascally faces
have only one course to take, and that is to remain honest;
otherwise they would be arrested offhand. The artistic thing is
to unmask honest countenances. It's no light task, I admit, but a
real art."

Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.

Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated.
Sailors of various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters,
fellahs, bustled to and fro as if the steamer were immediately
expected. The weather was clear, and slightly chilly. The
minarets of the town loomed above the houses in the pale rays of
the sun. A jetty pier, some two thousand yards along, extended
into the roadstead. A number of fishing smacks and coasting
boats, some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient galleys,
were discernible on the Red Sea.

As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit,
scrutinized the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance.

It was now half-past ten.

"The steamer doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock
struck.

"She can't be far off now," returned his companion.

"How long will she stop at Suez?"

"Four hours. Long enough to get in her coal. It is thirteen
hundred and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the
Red Sea, and she has to take in a fresh coal supply."

"And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"

"Without putting in anywhere."

"Good!" said Fix. "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get
off at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies
in Asia by some other route. He ought to know that he would not
be safe an hour in India, which is English soil."

"Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd. An
English criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London
than anywhere else."

This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and
meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix, left alone,
was more impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the
robber was on board the Mongolia. If he had indeed left London
intending to reach the New World, he would naturally take the
route via India, which was less watched and more difficult to
watch than that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections were soon
interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles, which announced
the arrival of the Mongolia. The porters and fellahs rushed down
the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the shore to go and
meet the steamer. Soon her gigantic hull appeared passing along
between thebanks, and eleven o'clock struck as she anchored in
the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers, some of
whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the
town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed
on the quay.

Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and
figure which made its appearance. Presently one of the
passengers, after vigorously pushing his way through the
importunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely asked
if he could point out the English consulate, at the same time
showing a passport which he wished to have visaed. Fix
instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the
description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise
nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was
identical with that of the hank robber which he had received from
Scotland Yard.

"Is this your passport?" he asked.

"No, it's my master's."

"And your master is -"

"He stayed on board."

"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his
identity."

"Oh, is that necessary?"

"Quite indispensable."

"And where is the consulate?"

"There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a
house two hundred steps off.

"I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however,
to be disturbed."